rock era: the art.


this is toying with my head.
a churn too sophisticated.


idealism.
is thrown in our faces in every possible way.
these refined childhood make-believe tales.
no more, no less.


i'd like to pick up a Queens, New York accent.
even as a white elephant.
yes, i'd like that very much.


there truly exists.
the people who bring out the best in you.


Eva Cassidy's "Fields Of Gold" is haunting.
in the most soothing and beautiful way.
maybe because it was one of her last songs performed.
before she passed on.
what a talent.


can i cherish, sing just like that.
like there will be no tomorrow?


you'll remember me when the west wind moves
upon the fields of barley
you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
when we walked in fields of gold.

perfection at 6:02 PM